Empty
by lime215
Summary: "If there's anyone who can get everything he wants, it's Neal." Well, not exactly... Gen.


**Title: **Empty  
**Rating: **PG-13 (for depictions of depression)  
**Characters: **Neal Caffrey, Mozzie  
**Pairings: **None  
**Categories/Genres: **Angst, H/C

**Word Count: **2000

**Warning(s): **Depictions of depression (if you are depressed or suicidal, you probably should be wary in reading this), spoilers through Judgement Day

**Author's Note: ** This is my first stab in the with White Collar. And let me say, I *loved* writing this. It's a little disorganized and hectic for how I usually write, but I hope it turned out okay. This fic was beta'd by lovetoujour on LJ. I enjoy feedback, so leave a comment, por favor! This is based off of a quote Peter said in the promo.

**Summary: **"If there's anyone who can get everything he wants, it's Neal." Well, not exactly...

"If there's anyone who can get everything he wants, it's Neal." Not quite "everything."

Neal has almost everything. The one thing he doesn't have is the one thing he wants most.

And it's changed him. Neal's empty. Despite that signature smile he sometimes attempts to put on, Mozzie sees right through him, he sees it in his eyes. Something's missing. Something isn't there. _Neal isn't there_. Neal is so completely numb. Mozzie has stopped making eye contact with the kid after eight months because he can't take it anymore. He can't look at Neal in this state. Of course, he'd seen this Neal before, just never so bad.

Neal Caffrey sits down in a teak chair on the patio of the villa and sips his coffee slowly as he looks out into the ocean. As he adjusts his Panama hat, Mozzie walks out from the kitchen and sits down next to him.

"It's a beautiful day, Neal. You should paint some scenery." Mozzie comments, also gazing out as the sun set in the misty blue sky.

"Isn't it always?" Neal flatly asks.

"Yeah. We should work on a new forgery sometime. What do you want to forge?" Mozzie pauses, glancing over at Neal for an answer besides the usual rejection. Mozzie has no such luck.

"I don't want to forge anything right now." Neal stands up and walks back inside, going back into his studio space to draw pieces he refuses to show.

Mozzie sighs and gazes at the ground. Another day. Another day of a quiet, closed, depressed Neal Caffrey. It's not a nice thing, as Mozzie had long ago learned. When it started, Mozzie thought it was Kate all over again. Except, Mozzie was wrong. It turned out to be worse.

Mozzie could say it started about a week after they landed in Panama and had gotten used to the area, enough for everything to sink in. But, that wasn't even true. And Mozzie knew that. The moment it really started, Mozzie wasn't even there.

_As soon as Peter gave the nod, Neal was rounding the corner with a terrified expression. No, a wretched expression. And Mozzie was glad in a way that he wasn't there. Seeing that same old expression every time whatever it was went haywire was a torment to him and those around Neal. If he hadn't been there after Keller's numerous betrayals and the fiasco that was Kate, then frankly, Mozzie feared Neal wouldn't be alive. And that thought scared him._

_What Mozzie presumed was just a matter of minutes after Neal fled, he got a call. Over the phone, Mozzie could hear Neal choking out a broken son. Then, "Mozzie…" And Mozzie's face dropped. And that was the moment Mozzie knew it was all over and Neal would relapse into his heartbreak mode._

_As a friend, he knew Neal wanted so badly just to stay and make a life. But, deep inside his mind, he also knew that cons trying to get out never truly did. There would always be something holding them back, or rather, something that would fall through. And that was exactly what happened to Neal._

_"Neal, I'm so sorry. Get on the plane." Mozzie sighed and hung up the phone. He closed his eyes and wiped a hand over his face, dreading what was to come. _

Back in his studio, Neal is currently working on his latest drawing. Neal knows it's just making it worse. He's torturing himself for no apparent reason, but he can't help it. Neal looks back at his black and white sketch and decides the floppy ear needs more shade. He grabs the grey pencil and gets back to work. "Satchmo." Neal whispers as he taps the end of the pencil against the paper. Neal has to swallow a tear that threatens to fall.

In the studio, there are piles of drawings and paintings. All relating to his old life of course. There's an oil of Peter and El sitting on their patio. And then in the corner, a watercolor of the view of New York from his old loft. It never ends. Neal keeps finding something from his old life to reproduce. He needs to hold on somehow. He's never been good at letting go, or knowing how.

Mozzie's been poking at Neal asking him what he's working on, but Neal refuses to tell or show him anything. At first, Mozzie wonders, but decides to respect Neal's privacy. However, more recently, Mozzie's been more concerned. He thinks it's something related to his old life, something that Neal knows Mozzie would reprimand him over, and well, it is. Mozzie would sneak into his studio and check it out for his own sanity, but Neal has it locked and there are security cameras in the house. Of course, it's nothing Mozzie couldn't bypass, but it gets the message across to Mozzie enough so that he doesn't try anything.

Neal comes out of his studio, locking the door.

"Hey, Neal. What's wrong?" Mozzie immediately regrets the second part of that. When asked, Neal usually goes off into rants about how his life is a mistake and he hates everyone and it usually ends with Neal walking away, violently sobbing.

"I need some air." Neal doesn't feel like reeling off into an angry spiel today. He nods to Mozzie and walks away.

Relief washes over Mozzie for escaping another bullet and another breakdown, although he knows that Neal will likely have his breakdown outside while getting some "air."

Mozzie really doesn't know what to do. He never has. Of course Neal's always made it out in the past, but this time, he fears, it's different. Neal's lost.

Mozzie knows enough about Neal not to try to get him to open up to someone. Neal much prefers to sob and go through his trauma and heartbreak alone.

Outside, Neal paces back and forth across the expansive lawn. Neal glances back towards the house, just to make sure Mozzie's not watching from the living room. As soon as he confirms that, a sob escapes from his chest out through cracked lips. Neal collapses to his knees in the grass not fighting to hide his sobs as his chest rises and collapses.

Neal feels desperate, heartbroken, and angry; he can feel that familiar sensation in the back of his throat, but this time, he doesn't even attempt to swallow down the tears that fight their way out. Neal doesn't bother wiping them away either because he knows there are still lots to come. Neal tilts his head towards the sky and screams his lungs out. It's the only thing he can do at this point.

Perhaps, in a few minutes when he's calmed down slightly, he will be able to express what he's really thinking and feeling rather than incoherent yells.

Neal knows at this point that Mozzie can hear him from wherever in the house he is. Part of him feels he should try to keep his breakdown to a minimum to bother anyone, but besides Mozzie, he's the only one on the twenty acre lot. Of course it's not like he needs to hide this from Mozzie. Mozzie has known all along what was to come and he thanks him in his heart for letting him suffer alone, rather than pressuring him to see someone or spill his guts out to him. Neal much prefers to spill his grief out to the sky. Someone might think he's angry at God, but most cons have lived through too much to believe in religion or any higher power.

Mozzie retreats to the office when he knows Neal's screaming his lungs out outside and crying buckets of tears. The sound proofing is the best in the office and Mozzie likes to leave Neal his privacy during an emotional breakdown. Mozzie knows he should help; he should give a shoulder to cry on, but honesty, Mozzie just doesn't know how.

Then again, Mozzie never has. Mozzie tried once to help Neal. It ended in him getting held up against a wall. So Mozzie leaves him be, and hopes Neal can cope on his own.

Mozzie's been working with a contact at the Department of Justice's office, trying his best to configure a deal.

He's been making numerous calls, contacting judges, everyone he can. Even the suits. He _needs_ to get Neal back in.

So far, nothing's working. It's a closed book, the FBI has shut Neal out. Mozzie can't tell Neal he's working on it though.

If he does, Neal will get hope. And hope makes Neal desperate. Careless and distracted. He becomes dangerous and Mozzie can't risk that. Not yet.

Back outside, Neal's throat is beginning to become dry from screaming. Neal stops, and holds his breath, until his face turns a different color. He huffs the air out quickly, clutching his chest at the pain. He slowly starts breathing again in shallow breaths.

When he finally feels his voice coming back to him, it starts up.

"Why? Why can't I have the life I wanted? What's the point? I don't want to live like this?" Neal screams towards clouds. "I just wanted out! Why doesn't anyone care about what I want? No one ever cared about what I want!" Neal's childhood begins coming back to him. Then the abandonment he'd felt throughout getting conned, and the heartbreak. "I just wanted out." Neal whispers finally.

He leans forwards on his knees, his forearms and forehead pressing into the bright green grass. And Neal stays like that as he chokes on sobs and lets the tears flow down his face for what feels like an hour.

Mozzie moves back into the living room once he's sure Neal's stopped screaming. He sits and waits. The heartbreak he sees in Neal everyday is torture. The Neal Caffrey smile could charm everyone within a mile; just like that heartbroken expression on Neal's face could shatter those same people's hearts.

Then, Neal walks in. Unlike previous times, his face isn't turned away. Neal's stopped trying to hide it, he's stopped caring. Neal grabs the bottle of whiskey, a glass, and leaves.

Mozzie knows. Neal just sunk lower a level. Alcohol. Mozzie might say that what happened with Kate is the closest that Neal's come to _this_, but it's not. Neal was productive then. He was extremely reckless and desperate. Now, Neal just mopes around the house and sobs.

In the evening, Mozzie cooks dinner. As Neal and Mozzie eat together, Mozzie offers a glass of wine to Neal, but Neal refuses to take it. It's been five months since he's drank wine. Mozzie decides that this along with everything else isn't good.

As Neal comes out of his studio to eat, he grabs the paper. Neal hides the side with the sketch, though. Mozzie notices it, but tries not to look at it or comment on it.

As they finish dinner, Mozzie can't help but ask what it is. "So, Neal, what's on the paper?"

"I was wondering when you'd ask." Neal gives a weak smile, and it's the first genuine one since they landed in Panama. "It's a sketch I've been working on. I want you to keep it. Just, something I thought you'd might like." Neal slides the paper across the table.

Mozzie picks it up and looks at it. "Satchmo!" Mozzie chuckles and smiles. "Thanks, Neal."

"Sure. I'm going to go work some more." Neal stands up, and returns to his studio.

Mozzie's staring at the sketch. He likes it. Mozzie takes it as a sign that Neal's starting to let go.

But, deep inside Mozzie's mind, he knows, Neal will never truly be able to let go.


End file.
